


Leather and Silk

by The_Jester_Erebus10



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, D/s, F/M, M/M, Oral, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 12:38:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5666362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Jester_Erebus10/pseuds/The_Jester_Erebus10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione is appalled at Harry's new hobby...going to the Scarlet Serpent, a popular Wizard BDSM club. Who she sees there is even more shocking...and fulfilling.  Gift for leontinabowie for the SSHG gift fest 2015!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leather and Silk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leontinabowie](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=leontinabowie).



> Gift for leontinabowie for the SSHG gift fest 2015!

It had all started with an inkling of a thought that something was wrong. Very, very wrong. Hermione's roommate, none other than Harry Potter himself, was acting very strange lately. Each weekend he'd disappear and wouldn't tell her where he was going...so naturally, she had to investigate.

Hermione shouldn't be doing this. Nope, not at all—but curiosity, as always, had overcome her and...well, she just had to see for herself where Harry went every Saturday night.

So now she found herself huddled in line to get into a club of some sort, and everyone was dressed in...well, er, rather interesting apparel. Or lack thereof.

Hermione came to a shocking realization as she stepped past the beefy leather-clad bouncers and into the club. She vaguely recognized them as her old classmates, Crabbe and Goyle. Dear, sweet Merlin, save her.

It was a sex club.

Hermione could feel a blush creeping over her face and spreading to the very tips of her bushy hair. She was overdressed for this occasion, it would seem.

She heard a loud CRACK, and her head practically spun off of her shoulders as she saw a familiar messy mop of hair, bent down over a bench, wiggling and-

Oh.

Oh, my.

Draco Malfoy, Harry's (and Hermione's, for that matter) school nemesis, smirked almost audibly as he cracked the whip over Harry's bare flesh, and Hermione felt as if she were a deer in headlights. For the first time in a very, very long time, she didn't know what to do or how to react.

Then came the righteous Gryffindor anger.

Hermione marched back to the bouncer—Crabbe. "I'd like to speak to the manager of this establishment, please," she spat, as Goyle chuckled.

"If he ain't busy," he said, as Hermione glared daggers. "Alrigh', lemme get 'im."

Hermione tapped her plain brown flats against the concrete, a vivid contrast to the high leather boots that a majority of the club goers seemed to be wearing.

She waited ten minutes, pointedly staring at the tips of her shoes the entire time. She had never felt more uncomfortable in 22 years.

A throat cleared, and she nearly jumped out of her skin as she stared up. "Er-"

Oh, God.

Hermione's jaw dropped to her buckling knees.

Not him, please, not him—of all the people—

"I suppose you are the woman who wanted to speak with me?" Snape asked, and Hermione blinked as his smooth voice washed over her like hot, molten chocolate.

She certainly hadn't been expecting this.

"Ah, Miss Granger. How pleasant to see you."

Snape wasn't a typical aesthetically pleasing man, yet there was something about the way he held himself that made him attractive in that single instant. As he stared down his hawklike nose at her, she noticed the way the buttons on his shirt were undone slightly, just enough for her to see pale skin and a light dusting of fine black hair.

"I suggest we take this back to my office."

Hermione followed her old professor back through the club, and she thought it wasn't possible to blush any more than she already was.

When they finally reached his office, Snape placed a key in the lock and the door opened with a click. Hermione couldn't help but stare at his hands; they were beautifully sculpted—long fingers, the tops covered in soft looking skin, but the bottoms of his palms were hard and callused, telling a different story altogether. The tips of his fingers were stained from potions, presumably.

He sat in a plain leather chair behind a wooden desk, cherry, she noted, and gestured for her to sit in the chair in front of it.

"You wished to speak with me...Miss Granger."

"Er, yes," Hermione stuttered. "I was wondering—well, what kind of club are you running here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Snape countered, smirking as her frown deepened.

"But-this is a disgrace! My best friend is in there getting spanked and beaten and Lord knows what else, and if you don't put a stop to it now, I'll-"

"Ah, yes, Mr. Potter frequents quite often. You'll what, exactly?"

"I'll find a way to close this place down!" Hermione bit out.

Snape stared at her for a moment, before chuckling.

"What's so funny?" Hermione snapped, as the git rubbed his brow, still laughing.

"You do realize that everyone who comes to this establishment is a consenting adult, don't you, dear?" Hermione felt her blush deepen at that. "Furthermore, I run the most popular BDSM club in all of Wizarding London, so I don't think you'll have much luck shutting me down, no matter how hard you try."

"Well!" Hermione sat straighter in her chair, gripping the arms so tightly she could swear her nails were making dents in the wood.

"I assure you," Snape said softly, "no one here is doing anything they don't want to do."

"I—"

"What do you want?"

Hermione blinked.

"Me?"

"I can sense some tension," the man purred, his lovely hands crossed in front of him on the desk, and Hermione gulped down the lump in her throat. "I trust you haven't seen anything like this before, have you? What an innocent we have here."

Hermione stood up abruptly. "I think we're done here, Profes—er, Mr. Snape."

"Ah, I see. Well, if you ever need to fulfill your curiosities, you know where to find my...club, Miss Granger. Is it still Miss?"

Hermione nodded briskly. "I'll just let myself out now. Thanks for your time," she snapped, as she stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut behind her.

She could still feel his eyes burning into the back of her neck.

 

/

 

"You WHAT?"

Harry glared at Hermione, his nostrils practically blowing out plumes of smoke.

"Er, Harry, I saw. Vividly. Things I didn't particularly want to see..."

"You FOLLOWED me?"

"Well, I--"

"It's none of your business. Merlin save me," Harry raked his hand through his messy hair.

Now it was Hermione's turn to be furious. "What do you mean, it's 'none of my business,' Harry? I have a right to be worried. First you go to this—this--travesty of a club, and then you let Malfoy--"

"Malfoy and I have a very complicated relationship that is also NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS," Harry yelled. Hermione shushed him.

"Harry! Neighbors!"

"Come on, Hermione," Harry pleaded. "Don't tell me you've never done anything remotely like this before."

There was silence.

"Krum? Ron?"

Hermione shuffled her feet. "I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're wondering."

"No, but you've never explored your sexuality before, either, I'm betting."

"Er, I—"

"Missionary, vanilla sex, lights out, five minutes of foreplay, am I right?"

Silence again.

Harry threw up his hands.

"My interrogation is done."

"Why would you want someone to—to hit you? To tie you up and beat you? Isn't it belittling? It's a form of abuse, Harry!"

"Hermione, Hermione." Harry sighed. "It's not about that at all. It's freeing, giving yourself up to someone, to let go completely and not worry about anything but them, and the feelings they give you. It's not abuse, it's so much more than what it seems...you just have to, well, let go of yourself. Unless you're more of the being in charge type," and with that, Harry winked.

Hermione didn't know whether to be scandalized or ashamed. She obviously didn't know all there was to know about the BDSM culture, or what it entailed.  
Hermione lay in bed staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. Her ex Krum, being the star Quidditch player he was, had been rough in bed the two times they slept together. It was exhilarating, now that Hermione looked back on their time together.

What Snape suggested—that she explore her boundaries, her sexuality- it was dangerously tempting, now that she actually analyzed the idea. She and Ron would be broken up only a month exactly on Monday. Would it be cheap of her, dirty, even, to hook up with someone so close to breaking up with her boyfriend of five years?

Hermione bit her lip, and an image of Snape and his insufferable smirk flashed through the forefront of her mind. She felt a little tug in her stomach, and with a long winded sigh, she wrapped the covers tighter around herself and turned on her side. She squeezed her eyes shut around his image and willed herself to sleep.

 

/

 

The next morning, Hermione poured herself a glass of orange juice as Harry fumbled around the kitchen aimlessly.

"For Merlin's sake, Harry, the coffee's over on the counter, not in the fridge," Hermione sighed, setting her glass down on the table. She sipped delicately, still quite shaken from the night before.

Harry wasn't by any means a morning person, but the least he could do was acknowledge what had happened last night!

Hermione seethed silently as she swirled the remaining juice in her glass, watching the pulp float up and sink back down, much like her stomach at the thought of that travesty of a night club. A night club that Severus Snape owned.

"Harry."

Harry took a gulp of hot coffee, and cursed when some of it spilled on his robes.

"Cripes! Hermione, what is it?" He dabbed at the coffee stain as Hermione glared daggers at him.

"Really. Hermione, what IS it?"

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say a single word, a sharp, cawing noise sounded outside of the open kitchen window.

Hermione and Harry both gazed at the window; there was a crow pecking at the sill, an emerald envelope clutched in its sharp beak.

Hermione opened the window, and the crow cawed, opening its beak and dropping the letter in Hermione's hand. Without entering the flat, the black bird flew away, leaving a single feather in it's wake.

"What-"

Hermione glanced at the seal on the letter. It looked vaguely familiar...Harry took one look at the seal and chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Hermione asked sharply.

"Open the letter," Harry said, still giggling.

Hermione quickly opened it. She didn't need a Howler going off in her apartment and disturbing her neighbors—if it was indeed a Howler.

Hermione scanned the letter, her eyes widening with each word.

 

Dear Ms. Granger

I suppose you are still angry about our conversation the previous night. I trust you will let me make it up to you. Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron tonight at 9 p.m sharp, and I will buy you a butterbeer. If you prefer Firewhisky, I will happily accommodate. I hope to see you there.

P.S. Melanthios (the crow) is fond of sugar cubes, if you can give him any I'm sure he'd appreciate it.

Regards,

Severus Snape

 

"It looks like you have an admirer," Harry gloated.

Hermione snapped her head to the side and blushed scarlet as she realized that Harry had read the entire letter.

"Hmph. As if I would entertain anything he has to say," Hermione scoffed, crumpling up the letter in her fist.

"Why not?" Harry asked, digging into a plate of eggs.

"I—" and for once, Hermione Granger was lost for words.

"I mean, he's dark, mysterious...owns the kinkiest sex club in all of Britain...that's got to have some brownie points, right? And that voice..." Harry shivered and gave Hermione a serene smile.

"Wasn't he in love with your mother?" Hermione pointed out.

"Exactly," Harry continued, "he's a hero too. Think about all that bravery." He stuffed a spoonful of eggs into his mouth and said, "And who knows what he's hiding underneath all those robes and that damned frock coat. That size of his nose must mean something!"

"Harry!" Hermione gasped, scandalized. She let out a shocked giggle as Harry grinned.

"Just meet him, 'Mione! You need to get over Ron, and this is a heartfelt letter."

"Heartfelt? He asked me out for Firewhisky! He wants to get me drunk!"

"Heartfelt for Snape, I meant," Harry said, and took another sip of coffee. "It'll be memorable, and it'll get you out of your own head for an hour or two, and you'll forget about Ron for the night."

Hermione gazed into her teacup, which she had forgotten about. For the first time, she wished she believed in Divination so she could read the tea leaves and know what dark omen lay in wait for her.

 

/

 

At 7 o’ clock, Harry started helping Hermione get ready for her "date."

"It's NOT a date, Harry," Hermione grumbled.

"Sure, sure," Harry said. "And this is perfect!" He pulled out silky, dark purple robes, and handed them to Hermione. "Wear the black dress under them."

"That's my, well...it doesn't leave much to the imagination..."

"That's exactly the point. Come on, 'Mione, it's time to let go a bit and live to the fullest!"

Hermione flushed a bit as she pulled the dress close to her and looked at her reflection in the full length mirror in the closet.

"I'll try it on," Hermione said, feeling uncertain.

She went into the bathroom and undressed, then stepped into the slinky black dress. It came up above her knees, and she was glad she had shaved earlier. Her legs felt smooth as the dress slid up her skin, and she shuddered a bit at the sensation. She slipped the spaghetti straps over her shoulders and gazed in the mirror.

Her hair was up in a bun, loose curls falling on her neck and unfurling slightly as she stared at her reflection. She had minimal makeup on, she was going for a natural look tonight.

She felt...sexy.

Hermione gave a little hum of approval and stepped out of the bathroom.

"Wow," Harry breathed. "You look beautiful, 'Mione!"

"Thanks," Hermione grinned, blushing slightly. "I'll need the robes, though. It's supposed to be chilly tonight."

"Yeah, hopefully things get a bit hotter later on," Harry winked, and Hermione's blush deepened.

 

/

 

I can do this.

I can DO this.

Hermione's thoughts were racing and her head was practically spinning off of her neck as she stepped out of the Floo and into the Leaky Cauldron. She glanced around, not seeing her dark, formidable ex-Professor anywhere in sight.

She clenched her fingernails into the palm of her freshly moisturized hands. If this was a joke, if he was mocking her—

"Ms. Granger."

Hermione jumped. "Oh. Hi."

"Glad you've decided to join me," Snape said smoothly, and Hermione nodded, her eyebrows furrowed and hands still clenched.

"What happened to Miss Granger?" she asked stiffly, as Snape guided her over to a nearby table.

Snape smirked. "Well, we aren't at Hogwarts anymore, are we? And you've grown into a woman now, it only seems fit."

If it was possible for Hermione to flush any more scarlet, well, then, she just surpassed her record. She unclenched her fists as Snape pulled out her chair for her, and she sat down, slightly astonished by his chivalry

"Thank you," she mumbled.

Snape flashed her a look that she couldn't quite read, and then sat down in the chair across from hers, beckoning to Tom, the owner, and apparently tonight's barkeep.

It wasn't overly crowded in the pub, but Hermione was thankful she had somewhere to look other than into Snape's dark eyes. She distracted herself by gazing at a small group sitting by the fireplace chattering.

"So," Snape purred.

Hermione sat up straighter in her chair and gazed at him, her eyes focused on his nose. Oh Merlin, what Harry said earlier about his hawkish appearance suddenly popped in the forefront of her mind and she resigned herself to staring at her twitching hands instead. She clasped them in front of her on the table, averting all eye contact. She knew he was a skilled Occlumens, but that meant he had to be a damn good Legilimens, as well.

"Hermione."

Hermione jumped a little in her seat, and her gaze fell on his supple, soft looking lips. Oh, bad, bad Hermione, what an inconvenient place to look! She silently seethed, feeling a myriad of emotions float to the surface. That was the very first time she had ever heard him speak her first name, and she decided she wanted to hear him purr it again, in those melting, dark chocolate tones.

She imagined briefly what it would be like, in the throes of passion, hearing him murmur her name across the shell of her ear. What would he smell like, so close to her? She was always attracted to certain scents on a man. Sometimes, after Ron would come home from work, he would smell like sunlight and fresh parchment from working in the office. He'd have ink splattered on his robes. In the mornings, it was spearmint and tea.

"Why are you blushing?" Snape asked calmly. "Are you going to order a drink? Your drinks are on me tonight."

Hermione looked up to see Tom leering down at her.

"Ah. Um, yeah, I'll take Ogden's Old, please."

"Good choice," Snape said. "Two please."

Hermione nodded briskly to Tom, and he shuffled away. She looked down at the table as Snape steepled his elegant hands and leaned his chin on them.

"So, Ms. Granger."

"Yes, Prof—er, Mr. Snape." Hermione lifted her gaze to his eyes, which was a monumental mistake, indeed. His eyes weren't hard and cold, like the bitter Potions Master she remembered from her past. They were like heated coals, with embers flicking out and threatening to catch the room on fire.

Hermione felt like butter for a moment, before Snape cleared his throat.

"You seemed to be uncomfortable at the Scarlet Serpent, Ms. Granger."

Hermione looked up as Tom slammed two Ogden's down for Snape and herself.

"Yes, well, it's because your establishment condones a form of abuse," she said frostily. Snape, to her shock and surprise, smiled and let out a chuckle.

"What an innocent we have here," Snape mused, before taking a sip of his Ogden's. "How fun." Hermione was at a loss for words, and instead took a deep gulp of Ogden's. Oh dear. "Why don't we adjourn to somewhere more...comfortable?"

Hermione shivered as his words caressed her like silk ribbons. She blushed for the umpteenth time that night. "And, er, where would that be?"

"My club, of course."

Hermione's face turned from red to white in two seconds flat.

"I—"

"I wish to show you around," Snape explained. "You were always a curious mind, willing to learn more...and now, I am more than receptive to show you."

"I don't think--"

"Ah, ah," Snape chided, and Hermione felt as if she were back in school once more, "I insist."

 

/

 

The Scarlet Serpent wasn't dirty by any means as far as cleanliness went. It was quite shocking to see so many, well, scantily clad people in one place. Hermione had never been to a club quite like this before.

She froze in her tracks; a young woman was being led around by a leash connected to a black, studded collar by a man who resembled Blaise Zabini.

She felt a tug in her lower belly at the sight of it, and for a split second, imagined who Snape would be in this situation. Was he the Dominant one, as he had called it? Or was he more...submissive? She didn't really understand, but something about it now intrigued her.

"Do you like that?" Snape whispered, so close to her ear she could feel his breath ghosting over her sensitive flesh like a warm summer breeze. "Do you think about it? Giving up control to someone, complete control? I could help you understand. You do want to know everything, don't you, my little know-it-all?"

Hermione shuddered and sighed. His very voice, his words, everything was making her skin tingle. "I—I do, I want to know," she stammered. "I just--"

"Don't worry, pet, I'll teach you," Snape said, and took her by the hand, leading her into his office.

There was a door in the back of his office, and Snape led her through it, whispering the password as the door clicked open. Hermione's eyes widened. There was a large four-poster bed with strange looking attachments on the corners. Whips and canes were strategically placed on the wall, as well as other things she couldn't name.

"Those are restraints," Snape explained. "Tonight, we will use these. First though, a safeword."

"Safeword?"

"If something makes you too uncomfortable, you call out the safeword and I'll stop immediately."

Hermione's heart was hammering against her chest so loudly she was surprised Snape couldn't hear it.

"Quibbler," she said, pulling something out of the top of her head.

Snape arched an elegant brow but said nothing.

"What's this?" Hermione tapped at a firm ball that looked to be attached to elastic.

"That is a ball gag. We won't be using that tonight, since this is your first bondage experience."

Hermione shivered. "I-I think I'm ready to try."

"Lay down on the bed," Snape murmured huskily, and Hermione complied, shaking a bit- from anticipation, fear, or both, she didn't know.

He clamped the restraints on her wrists first, and Hermione stretched her arms out a bit. They weren't uncomfortable at all, but she couldn't really move-she was giving in to him completely.

When her ankles were tied up, Snape backed away and slowly started to unbutton his shirt. There was a light dusting of black hair on his chest and it trailed down his belly.

Hermione wanted to see where it led.

As he unzipped his pants, Hermione blinked as he sprung free. He was thick and long, she could see his cock gleaming with excitement. His pants dropped to the floor, and he crawled over her. She relished the feel of his body heat seeping into her flesh, the feel of his hardness dragging slowly up her leg and resting at her quim.

She tried to move to get that warmth closer into her, but he tutted under his breath, eyes sparkling as he stared at her.

"You may call me Sir, or Master, here. Outside, you can call me Severus."

She was spread out wantonly across his canopy bed, a feast waiting to be eaten by a gluttonous master. Severus moved lower, his hot breath misting over Hermione's soaking flesh, and she gasped wordlessly as his lips caressed her inner thighs almost...reverently. It was as if he were worshiping her.

Hermione tried to toss her arms above her head onto the pillow in supplication, a willing offering served on a silver platter, but the restraints stopped her. She was ready to be devoured by this strange creature, this horribly wonderful man.

He moved his head until he was purring against the core of her body, his tongue snaking out from between his lips and--

Oh! Oh, god...

His tongue curled around her pulsing, rigid peak, and Hermione let out a shallow, tiny scream as he sucked it into his moist, steaming mouth.

"Mmm," he groaned, and Hermione could feel as well as hear him inhale her scent greedily.

A single slender finger prodded her leaking entrance, and Hermione raised her hips very slightly. She felt self conscious, somewhat shy, and Severus seemed to sense her fear and uncertainty. He released her from his hungry mouth and gazed up at Hermione's flushed face.

"Don't be timid," he said. "I want to feel you move against me...I want to taste your hell fire."

He lowered his head and buried his face into Hermione's wetness once more, and she felt his words vibrating through her body as he moaned against her, “So delightful."

Severus gripped Hermione's thighs roughly now and forced them to spread wider despite the restraints, and she squeaked like a mouse caught in a metal spring-trap as stars sparkled behind her closed eyelids.

"Ohhh, oh, please," she begged, as his tongue slithered into her entrance to lick at her weeping walls.

Severus ate away at her leisurely, as if savoring Hermione's flavor. She blinked tears of impatience away as she continued to plead.

Suddenly, his tongue hit a spot inside of her that set a fire that spread throughout her veins.

Hermione lost all reason now, grinding her pussy against his pale face with hopeless abandon, surrendering the tattered shreds of dignity to succumb to this new, addictive pleasure.

Hermione's reaction to Snape's services, her frenzied motions, must have been what he had been waiting for, and he thrust his impossibly long tongue in deeper, harder, faster—continuously prodding and stroking inside of her as she shuddered and trembled, spasms wracking her body.

"Ah! Sever—Oh!"

Snape smacked her lightly on her flank. "I told you what to call me, pet."

"Master, please," she gritted out as the sensations melted to become a kaleidoscope of color. She felt as if she were blind, and could only see him, his dark head moving slowly as he savored her taste.

Licking his lips, he rose, resting his erection on top of her quim.

"Mm, so delicious," he murmured to himself, and then kissed her. Their tongues danced together and Hermione could taste herself on him.

"You seem to be quite receptive in receiving pleasure," Snape said, "but the next lesson will be reciprocating."

Hermione gulped loudly as he lifted himself off of her and stepped back.

"I'm not that exp--"

"I know this," Snape said, albeit a bit impatiently. "That's why I'm going to teach you." He whipped out his wand, and her restraints melted away. He moved to perch on the edge of the bed, and gestured towards his bare feet. "Kneel."

Hermione got down on her knees before Snape, and he hummed under his breath.

"I can do anything I want to you, can't I?" he cooed seductively, one long, bare foot lifting up slightly to dangle proudly before her face. "Prove to me that you were worthy of the pleasure I had given you." he commanded. "Stay on your knees, but do not sit on your heels. Raise yourself up a bit…yesss," he crooned as Hermione straightened herself up and gazed up at him quizzically. He cupped her upraised, expectant face, and stroked his long slender fingers over her cheeks softly.

"Open your mouth, pet," he ordered, albeit in his usual quiet voice, yet his words were still Hermione's only law. She obeyed like the loyal pet she was, and Snape let out a pleased, triumphant growl at her surrender.

Hermione's heart was beating in a rapid staccato inside her chest. Snape's hands guided her face towards his thighs as he slowly spread them. A stab of desire spiked through Hermione as she realized that she wanted this, wanted to please her master and give him satisfaction.

Severus took one hand off Hermione's flushed face and reached down to grasp his cock.

She surveyed his erection with childlike naivety...it was unbelievably large, a deep reddish color that contrasted sharply with his pale complexion. She could smell him from where she was kneeling; it was a musky, intoxicating aroma that drifted through Hermione's senses like a drug she would never get enough of. Veins pulsed deliberately on the shaft, as if waiting for her reaction. She let out a little sigh and saw a droplet of clear fluid seep from the plum-colored head.

Hermione could feel his greedy eyes upon her as she stared at his hard length, and a low, rumbling snarl filled the room.

Snape reclined almost...wantonly, beckoning her to come closer. Hermione rose, her quivering sea-legs almost giving out from underneath her. Severus grabbed her arm suddenly and pulled her on top of his hard body.

"Mmm, you smell simply palatable, like fresh cream and honey," he murmured against Hermione's hair. She sighed in contentment, nuzzling his neck and inhaling his spicy, male scent.

He let out a small moan as she placed a tender, unsure peck as soft as the powdered wings of a butterfly upon his throat. She continued along this strain for a few moments, before Hermione felt his large hands push lightly at the top of her head.

She gazed up at him again with wide, terrified eyes, and he stared greedily at her in return.

"Lower."

Hermione obeyed his order once more, slowly making her way down his finely sculpted, slender ivory body until her heart froze; she had reached the trail of dark hair that led to--

"Go on," he said in his wonderful, lilting voice.

She slowly kissed her way down the dark, coarse patch of pubic hair, the musky smell of his sex filling her nostrils.

Hermione licked the head of his cock lightly, and he bucked against her, his length dragging across her face and leaving a wet snail-trail across her flushed cheek. She smacked her lips at the taste; it was salty, slightly bitter, but it wasn't awful—in fact, the flavor of it caused the apex between her own legs to drip copious amounts of slick fluid...Hermione rubbed her thighs together, quivering in arousal.

"Suck me into your hot little mouth," he groaned, and dutifully, Hermione complied without hesitation.

He was impossibly thick and long, and she was afraid that she couldn't fit all of him inside her mouth. She suckled at the head of his cock, caressing it with her tongue and tasting more of the pre-come that wept from his slit.

"Deeper."

Hermione swallowed nervously as she forced her mouth to lower down on him until she could feel the tip of his cock in her clutching throat. He thrust slowly and raised his hips expectantly as Hermione struggled to take him deeper.

She choked a bit as she felt his cock pulse in her gullet.

"Relax, pet," Severus murmured, as Hermione did as he suggested. It was easier to take him deeper this way. "Oh...oh yesss...now move your mouth all over me. Show me how you would want me to fuck you."

A pulse of arousal burned in her quim, and she sped up her slow pace, sucking and licking rapidly.

Her teeth scraped the head of his cock as she came up for a breath of fresh air, and the pain seemed to only arouse him more. He grew impossibly harder, and with a deep growl, he clutched her head between his hands and forced her mouth up and down on the iron-hot column of flesh.

Hermione coughed as he hit the back of her throat, and she struggled to breath.

"Mmrph," she gasped around him, and he released his grip on her, staring down at Hermione with an open, slack mouth. He closed his lips and sneered at her slightly, his crooked teeth peeking out from his lips.

"You can play with other parts too, if you are ready," he suggested with a smirk, and she grasped his cock in one firm hand as she bent down to bury herself between his lax, hair-roughened thighs, nuzzling his sac.

Hermione felt powerful as his legs quivered underneath her onslaught, licking and lightly suckling at his balls, the wrinkled sac lightly dusted with dark curling fur. She could feel them tighten as she stroked his cock, making sure to rub her fingers deliberately at the wetness at the tip as she sucked one delicate globe into her mouth.

Snape let out a sharp gasp, and he looked almost vulnerable as Hermione gazed up at his face. His black eyes seemed to darken further and his expression hardened once more.

"I want to come in your mouth. You will swallow it all as if it's the most precious gift."

Her eyes widened and she felt a blush creep across her face.

"Mmm, your naivety is too adorable," he purred. "It makes me want you even more."

Trembling, Hermione lowered herself on his ruddy cock once more, and sucked him down as deep as she possibly could. She cupped his balls and rolled them in her hand gently as she caressed his cock, worshipping it as if it were a deity in of itself. With an animalistic roar, he began to spurt into Hermione's mouth, come flowing in a heavy torrent down her throat.

She choked as she struggled to swallow all that he offered her, the bitter semen flooding her insides until she felt as if she would drown in him.

He pulled his softening cock out from between her lips, and she realized-

She had never been this reckless before.

She had never felt this free before.

And Hermione Granger was perfectly alright with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the prompt: Hermione finds out that Harry frequents a BDSM club where he subs for Lucius (or Draco). Hermione is appalled because she thinks it’s abuse, and goes to the club to complain to the manager...who just so happens to be Severus. Cue Hermione being introduced to the D/s scene, and understanding what it really means.  
> Author's Note: I hope you enjoy. Beta'd by a friend who isn't on LJ  
> Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JK Rowling and associates. No copyright infringement intended.


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